


As The Mirror Begins To Crack

by Bluerain1984



Series: Strangers in a Strange Land [13]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Arguments, Body Dysphoria, Canon Trans Character, Damien has some support, Domestic dispute, Dysfunctional Relationships, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Joseph has issues, M/M, Mary's no saint, Mentions of possible mental disorders, Multi, Panic Attack, Past Infidelity, Robert is growing, Trans Character, Unintentional Transphobia, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 13:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11922165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluerain1984/pseuds/Bluerain1984
Summary: '“You’re a bigger and better man than me,” Robert told him.Damien said nothing, but he lifted his hands to grasp at Robert’s shirt.'





	As The Mirror Begins To Crack

**Author's Note:**

> Please, heed the tags and warnings. There will be an episode of body dysphoria. If that will trigger you, or cause you some problems, please, don't hurt yourself. Just go and wait for the next update. The same applies as there will be a domestic dispute. No violence, but it will be hard. Hence the Mature warning.
> 
> I love drama, but I also hate to hurt my readers. If you stay around, see you below.

Later, when all had indulged in their food, Joseph asked Craig for assistance in preparing the next party activity. Two plastic tubs were brought out and filled partially with water from a hose. Then, several boxes of Balloon-Battle contraptions were brought forward, each box was opened, and all of the multi-colored balloons were filled and deposited into the tubs. Joseph grabbed a green balloon, and with his usual mirth, said, “Time for a Balloon Battle!”

Most of the children cried out excitedly at the prospect, along with Brian, Craig’s boyfriend, and Mat. Damien’s own feelings ran along with the expressions of nervousness that Hugo kept making. Robert and Mary appeared to be bored, and proceeded to sit down in lawn chairs to enjoy the last beers that Robert had brought. Joseph scanned the party-goers and pointed at his eldest son. “Chris! Come on up, buddy, you get to be a team captain.”

“Kay,” Chris did not sound excited, but he readily grabbed up an armload of balloons. Joseph’s gaze gave another sweep.

“Since you’re going off to college, soon,” said their host, waving his hand at Amanda, “Why don’t you be our other captain, Amanda? I’ll even let you pick your first team mate.”

“Why her?” Chris asked, his face scrunching in disappointment.

“Well, buddy, you have the home advantage!” Joseph told him, all while Amanda made her way up, grabbing a few balloons.

“Yeah, shorty,” Amanda said, “You know the territory. Since I get first pick—Craig! Spot me!”

“Sure thing!” Craig replied as he easily grabbed one of the no-doubt heavy tubs, and went to join Amanda at one end of the ‘battlefield’.

“Manda Panda,” Amanda’s father said, looking stricken and voice pained, “Why didn’t you pick me first?”

“Sorry, Dad,” the young woman answered, “Gotta think strategy.”

With Amanda’s turn over, Chris immediately, “Mom!”

“What?” Mary asked.

“You’re on my team,” he told her.

Mary raised an eyebrow. “Pick someone else, hon.”

“No,” the young boy said adamantly, “I want you on my team.” He clearly wasn’t going to budge. Mary sighed and rose from her seat to walk over to him.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll play.”

“Brian,” Amanda called from her space. She made ‘finger guns’ at him. “Get over here, big guy.”

“This is going to be fun!” Brian declared, making his way over. Amanda’s father seemed to sink further into despair.

Chris’s head darted and he barked out, “Ernest.”

“Aw yeah,” Hugo’s son said, making his way to Chris and Mary.

Damien watched the teams fill, with Amanda choosing next one of Craig’s twins, Briar, Joseph, Hugo, Mat, and, at last, her own father. Damien suspected she took pity on him and how he looked close to tears. Chris, on the other hand, chose Lucien, as well as Hazel Cahn, Carmensita and Daisy Harding. Joseph’s twins opted to sit as ‘judges’ of the fight.

“We shall proclaim the victors,” they said in unison.

Chris, at his final turn, looked at Damien, who was standing by Robert as the older man lounged.

“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” Robert said, patting at Damien’s lower back.

But when Chris spoke, the boy said, “Mr. Small.”

Both Robert and Damien looked at the boy. What?

“No,” Robert replied. “I don’t do water balloon fights.”

Chris scowled. Mary looked at her son. “Chris, just take Dames. It’s fine.”

“I need someone who fights dirty!” Chris shouted. “Your friend’s too girly.”

Damien knew there was no malice behind the words. He knew that Chris really didn’t know any better. But he still tightened his grip on his parasol’s handle as he felt his stomach dropping out, and fought to keep his knees from giving way to send him down to the ground. Around him, the adults and teens went silent. Lucien’s eyes began to burn in a silent fury while Ernest rubbed at his neck and looked away. Mary was staring down at her son, clearly sobered by the shock of the words. Joseph looked uncomfortable and grit his teeth, before walking over to the boy.

“C-Chris, that wasn’t nice! Say you’re sorry.”

“Why?” the boy asked.

Robert stood up. Damien watched his lover’s face. The older man’s dark face was twisting in a look of pure detestation. This wouldn’t do! Damien grabbed his shoulder, and he pushed a smile to his lips. “It’s all right,” Damien said. “I admit, I’m rather terrible at these games! Please, don’t be upset,” he told his neighbors, “And, Robert, dearest, just enjoy the game for me.”

“…You sure?” Robert asked, his expression skeptical.

Damien released Robert’s shoulder. “I insist,” Damien told him. He lowered his parasol, and said, “I’m just going to go inside. Use the restroom, make a nice beverage.” With his excuse made, Damien went to the door leading back into the house, doing his best not to run, but still moving at a quick pace. He went past the kitchen, dropping his parasol somewhere along the way, and as his legs felt as though they were about to finally fall away from him, he found the ground floor powder room, threw the door open, and flung himself inside to cling at the counter top around the sink.

He gripped the edge, and were his knuckles not already quite pale, they would be turning white. Damien inhaled deeply, eyes shut tight. He would be all right. He would be fine. He raised his head, and looked into the mirror. His hair hung along his face. Yes, his face was squared, and his cheeks a fine chisel, his shoulders might be wide, body more muscular in places than it had been years ago when he’d begun his hormone treatments, but now he was seeing softness in his chin. He could see the outline of the binder he wore under his swim suit, becoming far too aware of his breasts. He rubbed at his neck, still too slender, too fine, too—

“Dames!” Damien ripped his head from staring at his reflection to see that Robert was standing in the doorway to the powder room. He was bone dry. How long had Damien been in there?

“Ah, Robert,” Damien said, voice soft, shaking. “Is th-the party over?” Robert didn’t answer and just came in, his arms going around Damien, squeezing tightly until Damien’s back hit Robert’s chest. “Robert?”

“S’only been a couple of minutes.” Robert pressed his face into Damien’s hair. “What’s going on, baby? Talk to me.”

Damien shuddered. “I- I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Robert said, turning Damien around. “You were practically runnin’. What happened?”

Damien looked away. “It’s… It’s ridiculous and utterly foolish.”

“Nothin’ that makes you have a panic attack is ‘foolish’, Dames. What’s goin’ on?”

At Robert’s persistence, Damien exhaled and shivered. He took one step away from his dearest, and covered his face with one hand. “I… Sometimes… Things will… make me feel… as if I am not… ‘enough’ of a man.”

Robert’s eyebrows furrowed. “What d’ya mean?”

“I… I can’t… it’s hard to explain,” Damien said, raising his pale arms up to hold himself. “As you said, I will have panic attacks and… I have invasive thoughts…. That I don’t look like a man. I don’t act… masculine enough. That I’m not… as content and satisfied with my body as I want to be… That I’m still… incomplete.”

Robert’s gaze did not leave his face as Damien did his best to describe his dysphoria. After a moment of silence, Robert pulled Damien back to him, again, and held him even tighter than before.

“You’re a bigger and better man than me,” Robert told him. Damien said nothing, but he lifted his hands to grasp at Robert’s shirt.

“I’m not.”

“You are,” Robert said again, pulling away to look into Damien’s eyes. “You put yourself last, after everyone else, and even when you do anything for yourself, you’re so fucking modest about it, and it’s insane. You don’t lie about shit, and even when you’re about to fall to pieces, you don’t lose your head.”

“Those are lovely sentiments,” Damien conceded. They were, but he was still felt a deep melancholy.

Robert clearly saw this, as he said, “As for your body, I’ve told you before: you’re sexy as hell. The sexiest man I’ve been with in a while.”

Damien felt his cheeks warm as he blushed. “Yes, you have told me.”

“And I mean it.” Robert took one hand from Damien’s back to place it at a pale, sculpted cheek. “Look, I know I’m new to this kinda thing, bein’ the supportive type, but sweetheart, I’ve seen every part of you. You’re a man, and you’re my man, damn it. And everyone knows that.”

Damien’s lips curved up. “Which do they know? That I’m a man, or that I am _your_ man?”

“Both,” Robert said, smiling back. “Don’t be a smart-ass, babe.” His words did not match the amusement in his voice.

Damien let out a soft laugh. He was beginning to feel better. Much sooner than his usual bouts with his mind. Moments of doubt and fear would come, Damien knew that well, and he wouldn’t be able to predict when they did, but he was grateful that now he had Robert there to be there. Damien turned his head, pressing his cheek into Robert’s hand. Damien lifted his hands to place slender, white fingers along Robert’s jaw, leaving them a moment before sweeping them back to stroke along Robert’s hair, before cupping the back of the older man’s head.

“My dearest,” Damien whispered softly as he tilted his head, leaning forward.

Footsteps in the hall alerted them that the door was still, unfortunately, open, and that people were coming their way. Both men turned to look, Damien leaning away from Robert and stepping back until they were parted.

 Joseph and Mary were coming, with Chris between, being led by both of his parents. As the trio stopped, Mary crossed her arms over her chest, and cast her eyes down at her son, a look of deep frustration and disappointment on her. Joseph gently moved his son forward, and said, “Damien. We’ve had a talk with Chris, and he would like to say something to you.” Chris stepped up after his father’s prodding, and looked up, then down to his feet.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Bloodmarch,” the boy said. “I didn’t know what I said was bad.”

Damien exited the powder room, and bowed, placing his hands on his knees. Now a bit closer to Chris’s level, he said, “I know. And I accept your apology. It was kind of you to offer it. But I do hope you will consider your words more carefully in the future, for everyone and not only me.”

“Yeah,” Chris said, “I will.” The boy shoved his hands into his shorts’ pockets. Joseph placed his hand on Chris’s shoulder and pulled him back slowly.

“That’s my champ,” Joseph said. “Now go with your mom, and help her clean up.”

“Oh,” Damien said, “Did we miss the rest of the party?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Mary said, getting her eldest son’s hand in her own. “You just missed Daisy Harding kick everyone’s asses.”

“Mary,” Joseph said, rolling his eyes a bit before looking back at her. “Language please?”

“Fine, kicking everyone’s ‘butts’,” she amended. Joseph turned back to Damien.

“We had her take over Chris’s team while we were having our talk,” Joseph explained as his wife and son retreated along the hall. “I knew she was a little genius, but she’s also absolutely brutal at Balloon Battle!”

“Always the quiet ones,” Robert spoke up as he came to stand behind Damien. “They come out when you least expect ‘em and tear you apart.”

“Clearly,” Joseph said. The three men stood a moment in awkward pause before Joseph sighed. “Listen, Damien, I really am sorry for what happened. That is not how I raise any of my kids—it’s not what I believe, either! You know that, right?”

“Of course,” Damien said, hoping to appease their host. “You need not be worried. Mary told me about some of Chris’s testing results, and—”

“We’re still looking at good counseling,” Joseph assured him. “And I’m glad that you understand. But still, let me make it up to you.”

“You don’t need to concern yourself,” Damien countered. Joseph reached out, taking both of Damien’s hands.

“Please,” Joseph reiterated. Joseph released one of Damien’s hands, and with the newly freed hand Joseph touched his own chest. “As a neighbor, as a good Christian, and as a friend, I’m begging you to let me.”

Damien looked back to Robert a moment, but his lover’s lips were turned down in a frown, while his brow was creased in disapproval. Damien tugged and took his hand back from Joseph. A part of him felt… unsettled by how deeply Joseph wanted to make amends, and would have declined again. But another part, the part that did want to try and be courteous to his closest friend’s husband, told him it would be best to accept Joseph’s offer, if only to promote good will.

Thus, Damien nodded. “I still say it is enough already, but I will accept.”

Joseph looked relieved. “Oh, wonderful. Since tomorrow I have things to do after church, how about Monday? I’ll treat you to lunch! Make it a guy’s day thing? How’s that?”

In truth, it sounded awkward, but Damien smiled at Joseph, and said, “That would be lovely, thank you. Until then.” Damien was already reaching his hand behind him, and Robert took it quickly and firmly.

The two left, stopping only for Damien to retrieve his parasol. As Damien stepped onto the front porch, he saw Lucien sitting on a step, one leg bouncing in clear agitation. The teenager turned his head and practically sprinted to Damien, arms fast around the father’s middle.

“Dad!” The crown of Lucien’s head was right under Damien’s chin.

He placed arm around Lucien’s shoulders, and with his free hand he pet the young man’s bleached hair. “I’m all right, son.”

“I’m sorry,” Lucien said. “I was gonna check on you, but Mr. Small said—”

“I can guess,” Damien interrupted. “But I really am all right.”

“He usually calms you down?” Robert asked.

“He does,” Damien said, glancing at Robert. “He has ever since he was a boy. He used to say I was the best Dad to ever Dad,” he added with a chuckle. Lucien grunted and pulled away.

“Dad, don’t tell people that.”

“But it helped,” Damien assured his son. “And I will always be thankful that my son has such a strong and good heart.” Lucien frowned, cheeks gone red now, and stepping away from Damien.

“Well,” Lucien said, “At least now there’s another person who can help you when people are being dicks.”

“Lucien,” Damien chided softly, descending the porch’s stair, Robert close to his side. “He’s a child.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Lucien told his father, following the men. “I still wanted to yell at that little brat for saying that.”

“Goodness,” Damien said. “I suppose this means you won’t be babysitting for the Christiansens anymore?”

“Are you crazy?” Lucien asked. “…I need the extra cash, and besides, I can just get back at them by showing the twins more horror movies.”

Damien let out a vocal sigh of consternation. But he was in reality quite happy, now. As he walked with Robert and Lucien, he asked, “What shall we do tonight, my dears?”

“Can we get Chinese and watch a movie?” Lucien asked.

Damien looked to Robert. “Would you care to join us?”

“As long as I can sleep over,” Robert said, smirking and raising his eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

“I can’t turn away a guest.”

“Ugh,” Lucien moaned, “Please don’t make out in front of me.”

“No promises,” Robert said over his shoulder.

* * *

 

Joseph slid his phone into his pocket after he called the water-slide rental company, and peeked out of his front window. He saw Damien, chatting with Lucien and Robert, the Goth’s lily-white hand holding onto Robert’s.

_Stop doing this to yourself._

He turned and headed for the back yard to finish cleaning-up after the party. He stopped as he passed the living room, seeing Chris on the sofa, playing on his hand-held.

“Why aren’t you outside cleaning, pal?”

“I did clean,” Chris said. “I got the table cloths. Mom said it was fine.”

Joseph exhaled through his nose, and lifted his shoulders. “Okay. Fine. Can you check on Crish for me, buddy?”

“Kay,” the boy said as he set his game down and went up the stairs.

Joseph resumed his trek. He got a towel, a grill-scrub, and some spray-cleaner, then went outside to his grilling station. While he worked, Mary came up behind him, dropping the bag of trash she’d collected.

“How long’s this thing gonna be back here?” she asked him, swinging her hand back at the water slide.

“Just until tomorrow,” Joseph told her. “The rental company will pick it up after we get back.”

“Fine,” she said, running her hands through her hair, shaking the light-brown mass out. “God, I need a drink.”

“You’ve had several. All day.” He scrubbed harder at the grill grates.

“Sounds like you need one, too,” she muttered. As she went into the kitchen. “How was Dames?” she spoke louder to be heard through the open door.

“He was fine,” Joseph called back to her. “I invited him to lunch Monday.”

He heard her steps as she went through the kitchen. The wine-cabinet opening and closing. Her return as she came to the door, her typical glass of red in hand. “The hell for?” she asked as she put the glass to her lips.

“Because it’s the right thing? Because I feel badly for my son triggering him?” Joseph pressed his scrub harder, turning the grates and quickly swiping at a stubborn bit of grit.

“Just remember what I said before,” Mary warned him. “Don’t mess with them.”

“I’m not.” Joseph said.

“Even though every time you see them together it looks like you’re about to either scream or start smashin’ shit?” she asked. “Even though I see how you fuckin’ still stare at Robert?”

Joseph roughly slotted his grates back into their places. “Mary. Not. Now.”

“You’re a jealous little bitch, and seeing them together is eating you alive.”

Joseph shut the lid to the grill, and looked over at his wife. “You’ve already warned me. And I’ve already told you that I’m not going to do anything to them.” He grabbed his cleaning supplies, as well as the dirty grilling utensils and went to the kitchen, maneuvering around Mary at the doorway. “You don’t have to keep hammering it in.”

“Oh, yeah I do,” she said, following behind him, a harpy clawing at his back while she coated her tongue in poison. “What the hell are you gonna talk to Dames about during your lunch? His next taxidermy project? Another lecture about his house’s color schemes? I know you’re lookin’ for an 'in' to talk him out of his relationship, since you can’t get Robert to start chasing your ass again.”

The tongs, skewer, and spatula clattered as Joseph dropped them into the sink. He tore open the cabinet doors to put his cleaning supplies up. “It’s just a lunch, Mary, for God’s sake!” he yelled. He tossed the dirty towel into the mini-hamper situated under the island. “I’m giving a good gesture! What is it going to take to make you believe that?”

“More than your word, ‘honey bun’, since it’s good for jack shit!” Mary spat.

Joseph pulled his shoulders up, but before he could retort, he heard a small voice. “Daddy?” He turned, and saw Christina, still in her glittery-ballerina bathing suit. She looked terrified.

Not again.

He deflated immediately and went to his daughter. “Princess, hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re fighting,” she whispered.

“No,” Joseph crooned, putting one arm around his daughter, putting a hand on her golden haired head. “No, we’re not fighting.”

“Don’t lie to the kids,” Mary grunted.

He ignored her, and picked up his little girl. “Hey, Princess, why don’t we get you ready for bed and find Sparkle Pony, yeah?”

“Kay,” Christie said.

Joseph turned to look at Mary, but didn’t say anything. She returned his gaze briefly before she sauntered off. Likely about to get ready to go on her nightly binge. He carried Christina through the house, up to her room. He peeked in on Christian in his room as he set Christina down.

“Hey fella,” he called to the boy, “Whatcha doin’?” His son was already in his pajamas, and sitting on the floor.

“Playing lambs.” The boy replied. He had several blocks set up around a robot toy. A stuffed puppy sat at his side, along with the empty block bucket.

“I don’t like you playing that,” Joseph said, frowning. _Did Mary show them that damned episode again?_

“But it’s fun,” Christian said.

“Put those up and play another game until bed time,” Joseph told him, voice stern. Christian shrugged and obeyed his father, putting his blocks back into the bucket.

Christina came back out of her room, changed into her pajamas and carrying her purple unicorn. “I’ve got Sparkle Pony.”

Joseph turned around immediately, grinning down at her. “Perfect! Now, be good, Princess, while Daddy does the dishes, okay?”

“Okay,” she said. He pet at her hair before she twirled on her toes to go into her room. Joseph ran a hand through his hair, then along his neck. His shoulders ached with a bone-deep heaviness. He walked back down the stairs and saw Mary grabbing her bag. She’d changed her top, but she apparently was going to keep her denim shorts on, instead of changing into her usual skirt.

“Are you actually going out like that?” he asked. She walked by him.

“My ass looks good in these,” she answered. “Not that you look anymore.”

He did look. And that was why he didn’t want her to go out in them. “Don’t be out late,” he said. “I don’t want to go to church with you while you’re hung over.”

“Whatever,” she called as she shut the door behind her.

Joseph shut his eyes and leaned against a wall. He covered his face with both of his hands. How had everything gotten so screwed up? He needed to find a good therapist for him and his wife; someone who wasn’t in his congregation. Someone for him and Mary, and someone to take Chris and Christian to for their behavior. He just wanted a normal, happy family. He wanted support and stability and love and passion and—

Damien and Robert had all of those things. They’re cultivating them. Growing them.

He’d had a chance for that once, and tossed it aside for obligation. Prestige.

Joseph shivered. Let out a short growl. He pushed off the wall and went to the kitchen.

Where would he be taking Damien for lunch?

There was that one place by the pier. Did they have vegetarian options?

**Author's Note:**

> And so the stage is set. I'll be poking at the next part over the week. Again, it might take a bit. Can't promise a Thursday/Friday upload, due to work and a few things.
> 
> As with the sexual experiences, I felt a little iffy/uncomfortable about approaching anyone about the topic of body dysphoria. But I have seen my trans friends during these bouts, and done my best to help them when it happens. I know the most important thing is a strong support system, and reassurance. So, trans readers, never forget that you are you-- you are strong! You are brave. All my trans ladies, you are all gorgeous women, and let no one say otherwise. My trans-guys, you're men. The manliest of men, because you've fought battles, you've come through, and you're warriors. I love you guys.
> 
> Anyway, until next time! Please, Kudos are wonderful, but comments and critiques help me grow as a writer, and they give me the happies all through the week, especially when I check my phone on my breaks ;) Tata!


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